


camp beads

by anicula



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Beads, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-17 14:17:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15463245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anicula/pseuds/anicula
Summary: It’s not the throbbing of his thigh that wakes him.Nor the curtain of hair that shifts and trails down before it moves up.The scratch of nails on the short curly hairs do nothing.There’s something in the air that comes through the window.





	camp beads

**Author's Note:**

> un-orphaned work.

It’s not the throbbing of his thigh that wakes him.

Nor the curtain of hair that shifts and trails down before it moves up.

The scratch of nails on the short curly hairs do nothing.

There’s something in the air that comes through the window.

Not a breeze or a cold – just – an air.

A sense of otherworldliness that yanks his consciousness to surface.

A warm, wet heat applying suction just shy of his sac brings his attention downwards as if the halo of gold isn’t enough.

“Good morning.” Yuri’s voice is raspy like he’s already tired himself out with the stiff length hanging obtrusively next to his cheek.

“Goodnight,” Otabek corrects.

He reaches for him, but stops himself when he sees the blood still oozing out. “Having fun?”

A sharp, white grin. “Always.”

The resulting sigh Yuri lets out fans across the delicate skin and makes Otabek’s toes curl. Now that he’s up and awake, the insistent pounding of his blood moving south is impossible to ignore.

It’s only exacerbated by Yuri feeding so close to where it wants to flow to.

Amongst other things.

The acrylics are new and not wholly unpleasant, not when they’re tracing lightly over his cock in absentminded patterns, Yuri still concentrated on the blood and then with sealing up the small punctures.

When Yuri looks at the healing wounds with a satisfied grin, Otabek reaches for him again – by soft, tickling strands of gold.

“Don’t I get a hello anymore?” Otabek wipes off the blood smeared on Yuri’s chin before he kisses him.

“Hello,” Yuri replies so low it sounds like a purr.

He follows it with a slow roll of his hips and –

Otabek loses a bit of his sanity, precious little he had left.

And then the rest of it.

Because seated as he is on Otabek’s lap, Otabek can feel the distinctive press of something not quite soft. Something hard. Foreign.

Inside Yuri.

“Like it?” Yuri’s head is tilted to the side, his luminous green eyes barely opened.

Otabek circles his fingers around the warm opening, where it’s stretched by something hard and he presses on it experimentally.

And presses fingers into the opening around the toy to find that it’s a sphere.

Or not quite sphere.

It’s attached to another one when he finally pulls the first one out. Like a string of mardi gras beads but bigger and much more likely to make Yuri sigh and cant his hips to the side, his head bent back.

Otabek pulls at the string, small tugs that leave the widest part of the beads at Yuri’s opening for long moments before they get dislodged.

“Does this feel good?” He looks at the string of beads connecting Yuri to him like a perverse leash.

“Feel better if there was something else going back in,” Yuri looks down at him. His thighs aren’t shaking, just faint tremors that prompt Otabek to lay a steadying hand on him.

“Patience, Yura.” Otabek looks up at him with a quirked brow. “I’ve just donated blood.”

“Seems like you have enough to me,” Yuri mutters. His acrylics become more menacing, digging into the skin at the base of Otabek’s cock. Hard enough to be a warning but the pinpricks do nothing to dissuade the hot rush of blood. It might have even contributed to it.

The smirk on the edges of Yuri’s mouth says he saw the way Otabek stiffened even more and the glint of mischief is all Otabek sees before he’s pushed back down, beads forgotten, and Yuri’s fangs are hovering dangerously close to his cock.

“Hands up,” Yuri says, eyes trained on Otabek.

Otabek wraps his hands around the gilded frame obediently. Tamps down on the spike of fear that comes with Yuri’s sharp teeth – so sharp and so near and so –

Delicate. Light. Teasing but cold scrapped gently down his length pausing ever so often to press in softly, not enough to draw blood but if Otabek were to accidently push his hips up –

And then Yuri seals his lips around him and applies the same kind of suction Otabek woke up to and it feels amazing, how wet it is, the pressure moving up and down and just as Otabek thinks he’s going to cum – there’s nothing.

A tight ring of fingers at the base of his length. Yuri still mischievous. Index finger sucked into his own mouth just by the tip of the acrylic.

It goes down. Hard scrape down the underside of his cock, the nail goes and Otabek’s not completely sure Yuri didn’t break skin but  _fuck_.

Yuri’s hand is completely covered with white and he looks ridiculous with beads coming out of his ass and the smug grin but Otabek can’t bring himself to appreciate it because Yuri is still pumping him.

Moving his hands up and down, faster than he’s done before. Gripping harder and massaging the head of Otabek’s cock with his other hand, palm rolling over the head and his fingers pressing against the slit, before bending down to do the same with his mouth.

The whine comes out of Otabek’s mouth unwittingly and yeah he’s caught onto Yuri’s plan, but he’s more caught in the pleasure-pain that Yuri’s wrapped him up in. His nerves feel like they’re being singed and he can’t –

“Hands up.” Yuri’s gaze is unflinching though his mouth is twitching, the smear of white around it like an obscene gloss.

Otabek’s arousal stays up.

The beads come out with no input from him, his muscles like he ran a marathon and Yuri looks at him with a soft tsk before he attends to himself. He sighs as they pop out, one at a time, letting out a soft, showy moan when Otabek gathers enough of his facilities to rest his still trembling hand next to Yuri’s clever fingers.

“Too much for you darling?” Yuri says with a little too much tongue.

“Anything for you,” Otabek says between gritted teeth as Yuri sinks down on top of him, the heat almost unbearable.

Yuri only smiles, not cruel, but fond. He cants his hips slowly, rolling them at a leisurely pace, chasing his own end with no rush at all.

Otabek’s not sure if the pace is for him or for Yuri, but the bank of pleasure that moves and settles over him stifles the pain and he pushes his hips up to meet Yuri’s tentatively.

Yuri takes it as a hint to move faster – and he does. Braces himself on Otabek’s chest and rolls his hips, the strain in his thighs highlighting all his muscles contracting and shifting beneath pale, smooth skin.

The second time comes faster. With a small sensation of pain that laces up his spine and sheets that rip under his hands.

It’s all drowned out by the satisfied moan that Yuri lets out and soothed by his now warm, pliant limbs.


End file.
